


Psychosomatic

by EvilMuffins



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Breathplay, Established Relationship, Guro, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, kink meme fill, magically reaching into someone's chest to fondle their organs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 04:30:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12809649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilMuffins/pseuds/EvilMuffins
Summary: “Would you like to see a trick?” Akechi asked, pinching the pointer finger of his glove, pulling it loose. “To pass the time while we rest, I mean?”Yusuke raised a brow. “You’ve already blackmailed your way onto our team. What more of a trick can you possibly have up your sleeve?”---Akechi puts a recently discovered ability to good use.





	Psychosomatic

**Author's Note:**

> [Kink meme fill](https://personakinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/993.html?thread=690913#cmt690913)

“Is there a problem, Fox?” Akechi asked, bemused smirk playing on the edges of his mouth.

“I just…” Yusuke’s eyes narrowed toward the shining box before them, open and relieved of its contents, “Had thought the chest to be locked, that’s all.”

“It was just jammed. I’m stronger than I look, you know.” A comical flex of his arm did little to prove his point. “I’m surprised you couldn’t have done it yourself, Fox. Have you not been eating properly again?”

The way Yusuke’s eyes wandered downward toward the tracks beneath their feet answered for him.

“We’ll grab something to eat after this, alright?” Akechi suggested. “A date should always end with good food.” Or so he imagined. It wasn’t as if he had dated anyone other than Yusuke before then.

“Of course.” Yusuke smiled, mind set at ease for the moment by the promise of a free meal as the two continued on down the tracks. “Speaking of dates, I would very much enjoy it if you could accompany me to the latest exhibit at the science museum next week. If your schedule permits, of course.”

“The science museum?” Akechi repeated, tilting his head. “That’s different for you. Are they running an exhibit on the effects of paint fumes on the brain something?” he asked curiously.

Yusuke shook his head. “Human plastination,” he replied simply, as if the museum were running another show on Meiji-era pottery.

“That’s a little morbid, isn’t it?” Akechi blinked, trying to picture Yusuke surrounded by human corpses, skinned and posed; but as melancholy as Yusuke might have appeared to someone who had only just met him, the image was still somehow a poor fit. Yusuke wasn’t like Akechi was after all, the only red staining his delicate hands was that of paint.

“Perhaps,” Yusuke agreed, switching his sketchbook from under one arm to the other, “but I feel that it might aid in my studies of anatomy.”

While it was true that Yusuke had used Akechi as his model a handful of times already, even a layman like himself knew that using only the same subject wouldn’t help him to grow as an artist. As it was, the entire reason they had ventured into Mementos without the others was for Yusuke to draw Akechi in a different environment than usual without distraction.

“Well, I suppose it is true that you can’t exactly rip my skin off to get up close and personal with my musculoskeletal structure,” Akechi mused.

“That goes without saying,” Yusuke responded in that even way that always left Akechi uncertain if he were being serious or not.

“In that case, I’m free next Sunday,” Akechi said. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen dead bodies before, after all.

The two walked on in relative silence for sometime, save for the unappetizing squelch of their feet against the unknown substance masquerading as ground, the shadows seemingly not drawn nearly as often without the two making use of the noisy Mona bus.

“Have you ever thought about becoming one of them?” Akechi asked suddenly, trying to drown out the image that had come seeping up into his head as if from an over-full storm grate, one of Yusuke with a bullet hole through his face. It was only their leader who needed to be dealt with, after all. Still, the notion of Yusuke’s blood on his hands had already settled, heavy with an electric buzz into the pit of his stomach.

“One of who?” Yusuke said, dropping his hands from the frame they had created in order to stop the sketchbook from slipping out from under his arm.

“I mean, donating your body to something like that after you die. Isn’t that like an artist’s dream, living on through his art?”

Yusuke took his time in answering, rather than stating the first thing on his mind as what usually happened. “I suppose if it might be a way for me to be of use to others after my demise. However,” his brows knitted as he considered the matter farther. “It would be a shame to not be able to see how they would mean to arrange me.”

Akechi snorted softly. “You sound like some sort of masochist. You’d really be okay with someone screwing around with your organs?”

“And what of you?” Yusuke countered. “Would you be comfortable with it? I imagine that there would still be fewer eyes on you overall than when you appear on TV.”

“They don’t display you with your name, though, do they? I think that sort of anonymity isn’t really for me…” Akechi trailed off, realising that in their search for the perfect location for Yusuke’s sketch, they had reached the escalator leading to the next floor, one which happened to be a rest area.

Heaving a sigh, Yusuke sank down onto one of the benches beside Akechi.

“I still say you wouldn’t get so tired if you’d just eat,” Akechi scolded- as if he were any more responsible- resting his head lightly against Yusuke’s shoulder, as the artist gave a pained looked toward where his sketchbook rested on the seat.

Ever since first meeting Yusuke, Akechi had found it difficult to understand how one could sacrifice so much for a simple hobby, when there much bigger things that one could strive toward. His plan to take down Shido, now _that_ was a work of art, if he said so himself.

“Hey…” Akechi said, shifting himself upright as he pushed his mask off to rest up on the side of his head. The shadows boarding the trains were far too wrapped up in their journey to parts unknown to pay two living boys any mind.

“Yes? What is it?” Even when tired out, Yusuke was always so attentive, Akechi thought. He could probably ramble off a summary of the latest few episodes of Featherman and Yusuke would listen intently, dark eyes focused as if Akechi were actually talking about something of consequence.

“Would you like to see a trick?” Akechi asked, pinching the pointer finger of his glove, pulling it loose. “To pass the time while we rest, I mean?”

Yusuke raised a brow. “You’ve already blackmailed your way onto our team. What more of a trick can you possibly have up your sleeve?”

Although there was some humor behind the words, they still caused Akechi’s eyes to narrow. Chewing at his bottom lip briefly, he tugged the glove off the remainder of the way, letting it fall to the tile floor.

“I haven’t shown anyone else that I can do this yet; not even Joker knows.” As Akechi spoke, he squinted his eyes shut, taking in a deep breath, concentrating on the feeling of his hand becoming lighter, yet weightier at the same time until the familiar feeling of pins-and-needles took up residence.

With a sharp exhale, Akechi plunged his bare hand straight through the unforgiving metal of the bench, wriggling his fingers beneath in demonstration.

“But how?” Yusuke asked with wonder, sliding off the bench, and crouching down to examine the melding of flesh and undamaged metal. “Even Joker isn’t capable of anything like this…”

“I’m really not sure. I only discovered it the other day, and kept it to myself so that the shadows wouldn’t overhear,” Akechi lied. In truth, being able to reach straight through chests and doors had likely been the only reason he had managed to conquer so many palaces all on his own in the past few years, but Yusuke didn’t need to know about that, not yet. There would be time for all sorts of things after his plan came to pass in the coming weeks.

Yanking his hand back out of the bench, Akechi instead laid it flush against Yusuke’s chest where he still knelt before him, face slipping into the same pleasant expression he wore for TV. “You said that you wouldn’t object to someone groping around in your organs, didn’t you?” he asked, cheerfully, inching Yusuke’s zipper down as he spoke.

“I suppose that I might have but…” Yusuke’s eyes widened in sudden realisation. “I certainly didn’t mean-“

His words were cut off, replaced by a strangled cry as Akechi’s fingertips dipped into soft flesh, disappearing up until the first knuckle were they stopped, pressing just at the hard line of a rib. It hadn’t been a very difficult feat- there was next to nothing standing between Yusuke’s bones and the rest of the world. Akechi was nearly jealous.

“Does it hurt?” Akechi asked, studying Yusuke’s eyes, wide through the openings in his mask. He had done it to himself once- letting off steam all alone in a waiting room deep in the heart of one of the palaces he had entered on Shido’s orders- and while not anywhere near close to being comfortable, it hadn’t quite hurt either.

“N-no, I can’t say that it does, but…” There came another sharp intake of breath as Akechi began to slowly walk his fingers across bone, all the while Yusuke making no move to push him away.

“I’m glad,” Akechi said, pushing deeper without warning, save for a wetly suctioning sound, much different from when he had pushed through the metal of the bench. His words hadn’t been a lie- he didn’t want to cause Yusuke pain, not exactly, but at the same time, he wasn’t certain what it was that he wanted, save for more of the face that Yusuke was currently making as Akechi traced his innards, hot and soft and slick. He watched, transfixed, as Yusuke’s eyes began to flutter shut.

Continuing to toy around with something warm and smooth, making use of his free hand, Akechi carefully reached out to remove Yusuke’s mask in order to gain a better look at his face before cupping his cheek, its rapidly blossoming red tint stark against the white of his glove. “Don’t tell me you’re enjoying this?” Akechi laughed, the sound falling from his mouth more roughly than he had expected it to. “It’s just like Joker said- you really are a pervert.”

Yusuke only groaned softly in response, eyes cracking open into narrowed slits under lids heavy, filled with equal parts guilt and accusation. Akechi could feel something near his fingertips jump then, the same feeling mirrored in his own chest.

 _Just because you don’t have a heart, doesn’t mean that he’s the same as you,_ a voice within Akechi’s head admonished. Attempting to focus on the rush of the train taking off beside them did little to drown it out.

The heart that had so much room in it for every member of the Phantom Thieves- enough so that he could even bring himself to spend so much of his time with someone like Akechi- he could hold it in his hand if he wanted to, grip it tightly in his fist and squeeze…

“You could…steal my heart quite literally like this, couldn’t you?” Yusuke breathed, as if being connected as they were had somehow allowed him to read Akechi’s mind.

“Yet somehow you trust me not to,” he said, the organ’s rhythmic pulsation hypnotically soothing under his touch.

Despite the fact that they had been on a handful of dates before then, Akechi came to the sudden realisation that this was the closest they had ever been to each other. The combination of intimacy and trust, coupled with the dizzying warmth surrounding his hand was wholly intoxicating. In that moment, Akechi thought that if had had the power to, he would have crawled inside of Yusuke completely, cocooning himself in the blind faith of affection.

Leaving Yusuke’s heart to its stubborn effort, Akechi ran his hand upward, groping around in the surrounding hot dampness until he discovered the fleshy tube he had been searching for, grabbing hold of what he was fairly certain to be the trachea, if his biology classes were to be believed.

Lips parted, although no breath managed to pass between them. Hands that had remained largely still up until then, now shot upward toward Akechi’s wrist where they grasped hesitantly at his sleeve, the uncertainty in the touch mirrored in his dark eyes, blown wide with something that wasn’t fear.

Red stained Yusuke’s gloves as Akechi’s hand, slick and glistening, slid through their grasp, extracted from his flesh with a moist pop.

A feeble gasp was swallowed up as soon as it dared to escape, lips still denied the luxury of air as they were caught up in a kiss, one that lasted until Yusuke fell forward limply against Akechi’s chest.

A moment or two passed, Akechi attempting- and failing- to wipe his hand clean as best he could manage on the white of his pants, abstract strokes on a blank canvas, before carding his fingers through Yusuke’s silky hair for a time, falling into a rhythm freshly remembered.

Wresting his eyes away from Yusuke’s form cradled in his arms--dark lashes fanned out against skin pale, yet flushed, chest heaving as if in attempt to break some unseen restraint--Akechi reached beside himself, taking up the abandoned sketchbook and flipping it to a fresh page that immediately became marred by blood still clinging in the whorls of his fingertips, before putting the pencil to paper.

Perhaps it was time to allow a frivolous hobby to consume him as well.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry, Yusuke. I really do love you...  
> For anyone following me for Akekita content, I promise that I'll finish up Aesopica soon! Kink meme got the best of me....  
>    
> Tumblr: https://evil-muffins.tumblr.com/  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/mikan_komaeda


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